The Visit
by scout28
Summary: "David Nolan" pays Mary Margaret a visit.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning! Spoilers! This story takes place some time after the third episode, "Snow Falls." **

"Everyone, take out your maps and crayons! Today, we'll be talking about the state of Colorado. Now, Colorado was…"

The students look in the direction their teacher is staring. Her mouth hangs open slightly and her eyes widen.

'David Nolan' stands at the entrance of her classroom with the school secretary.

"Miss Blanchard, Mr. Nolan would like to speak with you. I'll watch your class for you," the kind elderly secretary says as she gestures towards the handsome gentleman next to her.

Miss Blanchard blushes and nods her head. "Class, uh, turn to page 28 in your social studies textbook and read quietly. Please don't give Miss Sweets a difficult time," she says distractedly as she keeps her eyes on 'Mr. Nolan.'

A couple of the girls in the corner start giggling as they see Miss Blanchard gaze at the stranger. "Miss Blanchard, is that your boyfriend? He's so handsome!" says a moxie little girl.

"Annette, that's very rude. You shouldn't ask questions like that, you could embarrass someone, " Miss Blanchard scolds but her blush deepens.

"I'm sorry to embarrass you and your boyfriend then," Annette chimes in. All the girls in class start to laugh. The boys roll their eyes and try not to fall asleep over their reading.

"Annette! He is not my boyfriend. Get back to your reading or I'll quiz everybody on it." All the students pipe down and throw their eyes back to the book.

'Mr. Nolan' chuckles a bit as she walks towards him.

Miss Blanchard smiles at him shyly and leads him out into the hallway and towards the cafeteria. They sit across each other at an empty table.

"Uh, Mr. Nolan, I'm happy to see that you're well." She pushes a wisp of her dark black hair behind her ear. She gulps a little and tries hard not to frown, however, when she says, "I'm sure your wife is taking great care of you."

'Mr. Nolan's' charming smile fades. "Yeah, she's taking _great_ care of me."

Miss Blanchard, noting his change in demeanor, she asks, "Is everything OK at home, Mr. Nolan?"

Her worried expression makes 'Mr. Nolan's' heart flutter just a little. A wry twitch appears on his lips, "Well, I don't remember anything. I don't know what 'OK' is right now. It's really awkward. That woman is a complete stranger to me."

"I'm sure your memory will come back soon, Mr. Nolan."

'Mr. Nolan' lets out a frustrated sigh. He runs his hand through his hair and clenches his jaw. His memory loss has been agonizing. He can't remember anything at all-who his parents were, what he did for a living, or even his name! How can he not know his own name? 'David Nolan' just didn't feel right. Using that name felt just as strange as wearing a shoe two sizes too small.

"I suppose. I just wish I understood what happened. All the mayor told me is that she found me on the side of the road, unconscious. I wasn't near a car and didn't appear to be injured. I have no idea what happened!"

"Well, until then, you can create new memories. Maybe you can, uh, fall in love with your wife all over again. Maybe this is your second chance." Miss Blanchard forces an encouraging smile on her face.

"Miss Blanchard, the truth is…"

"Please call me Mary."

"Mary," he says with a crooked smile, "the truth is that I frankly cannot stand the woman! I can barely stay in a room with her for five minutes. At our supposed house she has pictures of herself all over the place! There's even a huge painting of her, JUST HER, near the entrance. It's the first thing you see when you walk into 'our' house. I asked her if she had any pictures of me and she said she didn't. Isn't that strange? She didn't even have wedding pictures."

"Mr. Nolan, maybe…"

"Please call me…well, something else! _She_ keeps calling me 'David' and it makes my skin crawl. It doesn't sound right." He lets out another frustrated sigh.

Mary thinks about Henry for a moment. Henry believed "Mr. Nolan" was Prince Charming to her Snow White.

"In the time that I've known you, you were always John Doe. Would that suit?" She raises an eyebrow at him.

"Much better!"

Mary laughs, "Then John Doe it is. So, John Doe, or can I call you JD?" He chuckles and nods. "JD, it seems that maybe you need to give yourself time to acclimate. Allow yourself to relax, maybe your memories will come back sooner."

He nods and swallows a slight lump in his throat. He hasn't been completely truthful with everyone. He does have a few memories. He vaguely remembers a soft voice speaking to him as he was sleeping. He remembers how it broke through the fog of his mind. It beckoned him out of sleep.

The moment he woke up, he knew he had to find that voice. He doesn't remember how he got to the woods. He doesn't remember slipping on a rock and falling into the stream. He does remember, however, hearing the voice again and then soft, warm lips against his own.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your class like that. I just needed to come down here and thank you. You saved my life. Sheriff Graham says that you gave me CPR. Thank you so much." He reaches out and touches her hand. They both feel a shock at the light touch.

Mary looks deeply into his eyes and her breath hitches. "It was nothing. It just seemed like the right thing to do."

JD takes his hand back. "Thank you, nevertheless. Without you, I probably would be sleeping with the fishes!"

Mary laughs again. Her eyes look up at the clock and realizes that it's about to strike 12. Lunch time.

"JD, it's time for us to go. The bell for lunch is about to ring and unless you don't mind a stampede of little feet crushing you, we better go." They stand up, leave the cafeteria, and walk toward the school exit.

As Mary reaches for the door, he says, "Mary, if you need anything, let me know. I owe you so much."

"Don't even think about it. It was nothing. Anybody would have done the same."

JD, thinking about his self-obsessed 'wife,' says, "Trust me, not just anyone would've done what you've done. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you."

Looking away from him shyly, she says, "Get your memory back. That'll be all the payment I need."

"I know but…" he's interrupted by a shrill school bell.

"I have to get back to my class so that I can escort them. I'll see you soon." Mary opens the exit door and lets JD out. Her stomach begins to a churn a little at the idea of their separation. She tells herself, 'He's not yours. He's not your Prince Charming. He's someone else's.'

JD walks out into the sunny outdoors. He walks a little and looks back to see the door close. Shaking his head and continuing to walk away, he thinks about the voice saying to him right before he woke up the second time, "Come back to me."

JD knows that he has come back because of that voice.

He also knows that the voice belongs to Mary.

'Don't worry,' he thinks to himself, 'I've come back to you.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed this story. Thank you for your encouraging words.**

**Special thanks to SpaceTraveler for your much needed advice!**

School has ended and as usual Mary stays back to clean up and prepare for the next day's lesson. Usually, she's done with everything in less than twenty minutes. Usually.

Today, she's distracted. Nearly an hour after all her students have gone, she's still cleaning. John Doe's visit rattled her a bit. Her heart flutters when she thinks about his visit and how he smiled at her.

She loves his smile. His eyes crinkle in the most handsome way when he smiles. For lack of a better word, it's quite charming.

She arranges the books in her mini-library languidly as reminisces about their encounter. She remembers the shock from the light touch of his hand. She remembers how his eyes were so focused on her and were filled with gratitude…and something else. She cannot quite place the other emotion his eyes were exuding. For a moment, she allows herself to forget that he has a wife and pretend that he's interested in her.

A knock at the door behind her startles her out of her daydream. She turns and sees the last person she ever wanted to visit her: Mayor Regina Mills.

The mayor is dressed impeccably in a black pencil skirt and silky crimson collared shirt. Her matching black four-inch heels complete the mayor's domineering businesswoman persona. Mary always feels like an underdressed peasant in comparison to this woman.

"Mayor Mills, what brings you here? By the way, is Henry all right? He wasn't in class today."

Mills walks into the classroom towards Mary with a sense of authority. "Actually, I've come here to let you know that Henry is no longer enrolled in your class. I had him moved to Miss Ella's class today."

Mary's brows scrunch up as she asks, "Why did you do that?"

Mills raises a manicured brow. "Well, I felt that your teaching style and habits were no longer effective. He's a very impressionable boy and your presence in his life is doing more harm than good."

"How am I harming Henry?"

"You're encouraging his delusional fantasies! He was happy before you gave him that nonsense book of fairytales! Now, he's obsessed with revealing people's supposed true identities," she says hotly. "Not to mention the fact that you're associating yourself with that detestable woman who gave birth to him. She's poisonous and deceitful. You're both destroying what little sense of reality he has."

Feeling anger rising in her chest, Mary does something she's never done before: she raises her voice at the mayor. "Don't you dare say that about Emma! We're doing nothing but helping your son cope with his apparent sadness! I gave him that book because he looked like he needed an escape from his sadness!"

"Watch your tone, Mary," Mills warns. "You have no idea what I do for my son, what I _would _do for my son. You know nothing about us. Do not presume to know what is best for him. Now, if I catch you talking to my son or communicating with him in any way, I will end you."

"Are you threatening to kill me?" replies Mary with narrowed eyes.

"Of course not. But there are worse things than death and I am capable of it all. I'll make you regret ever setting foot in Storybrooke. Just stay away from my son." With that she turns and begins to walk away.

Right before reaching the door, however, Mills asks, "What did you think was going to happen?"

"Excuse me?"

Mills turns around and smirks at Mary, "What did you think was going to happen when he woke up? Did you think that he would fall in love with you and end your perpetual loneliness? Did you think that he was going to leave the woman he loves for someone like you—a useless school teacher?"

Mary's anger melts when she hears the mayor's words echoing her insecurities.

When she doesn't reply, Mills continues, "You are pathetic, panting after an amnesiac. Do you want him because he knows nothing about you? Do you really think he could love you? Mary, do not mistake his gratitude for affection. You'll only end up feeling disappointed." Mills gives Mary one last smug look before reaching for the door and walking out.

Luckily for Mary, Mills leaves before the first of her tears begins rolling down her pale face.

* * *

><p>'I hate her. I hate her so much,' Mary tells herself, 'but she's right.'<p>

Mary seeks reprieve in the woods after her encounter with the mayor. She's slumped against a large tree with her knees clutched to her chest, crying. She hasn't felt this vulnerable in a long time.

It's raining. It seems as though the world, sensing Mary's sadness, is crying along with her.

After an hour of wallowing in her misery, she calms down. 'She's right and that's fine,' she says to herself. 'I can't allow myself to be vulnerable. I shouldn't think about him. I won't think about him.'

With newfound resolve, Mary gets up and looks at herself. She starts to laugh. 'She's right! I'm so pathetic! I let that woman bring me so low that I have resorted to crying in the mud.'

Mary rubs her arms to generate heat. She's completely soaked. 'I'm such an idiot.'

To make matters worse, not only does she have to deal with the cold rain but also the fact that the sky has darkened substantially and she has no flashlight. She reaches for her cell phone for a light source only to realize that she left it her in purse, which is still at the school. She probably wasn't going to see her purse until the next morning. Sighing, she tries to navigate her way through the woods.

After about fifteen minutes of walking, she realizes she's lost. 'Why is it raining so hard? It was so sunny earlier! Today has gone from bad to worse.'

Not wanting to slip into another bout of crying, Mary decides to sing as she walks. The first song that comes to mind is "You'll Never Walk Alone" from the musical _Carousel._ Her sweet mezzo soprano voice breaks through the loud pattering of the rain. She's chattering from the cold as she sings:

"W-when you walk through a storm

Hold your h-head up high

And d-don't be afraid of the d-dark

At the end of the s-storm

There's a g-golden sky

And s-sweet silver s-song of the lar—AHHH!"

Mary suddenly trips over a tree root and scrapes her knee on a jagged rock. Clutching her bleeding knee, Mary wonders if she'll ever catch a break.

Just as she feels her heart begin to grow heavy again, a warm coat is draped over her shoulders. Turning her head, she gasps as sees John Doe.

"Are you all right?" he asks with much concern. He takes her hands off her knee and examines the wound. "It's not deep but it needs to be cleaned. Can you walk?"

Mary doesn't reply. Her shock at his sudden presence inhibits her ability to speak. She can only nod. He helps her up but when she hisses in pain, sets her back down. Lightly touching her right ankle, he feels the tell tale signs of a sprain.

"I'm going to carry you," he tells her.

Finding her voice, "No! I'm f-fine. I can w-walk. Let's just get out of here, I'm f-freezing." She forces a smile when he gives her a doubtful look. He helps her up again slowly wrapping one of her arms around his neck as he clutches her slim waist.

When she's upright, he does not let her go; he only tightens his grasp. They then begin to make their way through the forest at a leisurely pace. The rain, taking pity on them, decides to wane to a drizzle before eventually stopping.

"How did you f-find me?" she asks. She starts to warm up a little due to a combination of his coat and unwavering grip on her body. Perhaps the blush caused by his physical proximity also has a hand in warming her up.

He chuckles and answers, "You're going to think I'm crazy if I tell you."

"Well, you are talking to a w-woman who went into the woods to cry like a little girl during a storm, who got lost, who s-serenaded the woodland animals," she pauses when he laughs out loud, then continues with, "and p-proceeded to trip, skin her knee, and cry again. I don't think I have the right to think anyone else is c-crazy but me!"

They share a laugh for a few moments before John realizes what she's said. He stops their walk and looks at her, "You were crying? Who made you cry?"

Mary keeps her head down, "No one."

Using his free hand, he cups her cheek and raises her face so that she can look into his eyes. "Tell me," he implores.

A sad smile graces her lips, "S-someone was just telling me the truth and I couldn't handle it. The truth h-hurts sometimes, you know."

Gazing into her eyes, he sees how painful it is for her to even think about whatever made her cry. He's somewhat hurt that she doesn't trust him enough to tell him everything. Because for him, she's the only person he truly trusts in Storybrooke. Not wanting to force her to reveal more than she is willing, he nods and resumes their walk.

After walking a few minutes in contemplative silence, Mary asks, "So w-why do you think you're crazy?"

Chuckling lightly, "I had a feeling."

"A bit vague this_ feeling_ of yours. Care to explain to the class?" The return of her sassiness warms him up a little bit. If she's being sassy, then she's not thinking about whatever saddened her. He's willing to make a fool of himself if only to keep her spirits up.

"I was sitting in Grandma's Café when it started to pour. I just knew something was wrong. I don't know how, but I just got the sense that you...you needed me," he admits shyly. When she doesn't comment, he continues, "I got into the car and started driving around. I saw that woman you were with the night I woke up walking on the sidewalk and stopped to ask her where you were."

"That's Emma."

"Well, Emma told me that you two were supposed to meet about an hour ago at your house but you didn't show up. She said that you weren't answering your phone and that she was looking for you. "

"Oh, no! We better hurry up and let her know I'm fine." Mary attempts to pick up the pace and loosen her hold on his neck but John stops her when she hisses in pain again.

"Don't worry about Emma, I told her to just go back to your house to wait for your call because there was no point in trying to look for you in the rain. We exchanged numbers and told her I'd call if I found you."

"OK, good." Looking up at him, she asks, "Why did _you _decide to look for me in the rain?"

"I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. I drove around a bit more and ended up at the edge of the woods. I somehow knew you'd be here and ran in without thinking. When I heard you singing," he laughs, "I ran towards the sound of your voice."

"I guess my craziness helped your craziness find me," she snorts.

"Possibly," he replies wryly. Glancing at her foot, he notices that her limp has become more pronounced. "Please let me carry you. Your foot is going to get worse if you keep putting so much pressure on it."

Accepting his logic, she allows him to put her on his back. They continue the hike in companionable silence. Becoming quite comfortable and relaxed on his back, she yawns.

"Am I boring you, crazy lady?" he asks.

"I'll have you know that crying is exhaustive business. If you weren't here, I'd probably pass out somewhere out of sheer exhaustion." Her eyes begin to droop. She soon lays her head on his shoulder.

"Go ahead and sleep," he urges.

She groggily shakes her head and mumbles, "No, I shouldn't. Not fair to you. I'm fine, just a little…" she yawns, "tired…" She quickly loses the battle with her eyelids and succumbs to sleep.

If she had been able to stay awake for a few more moments, she would have heard him whisper, "I'll take care of you. Always."


	3. Chapter 3

"_You probably want this," Prince Charming hands a calfskin pouch full of gold to Snow White. They are at the edge of the forest and have reached a road. In one direction is his castle and in the other is Snow's life on the lam. _

"_Oh right, the gold," Snow accepts and ties the gold to her belt. "And, um, you can't get married without this." She hands him a jewelry bag with his family's crest on it. _

_Prince Charming opens the bag and pulls out a silver ring with an emerald gem. He studies it for moment and thinks about how the gem matches her eyes but pale in comparison. "I know, not your style."_

_On impulse, Snow grabs for it and says, "Well, there's only one way to find out." She puts the ring on her right hand ring finger. Time seems to suspend itself as the two of them examine her hand. _

_The prince allows himself to wonder what life would be like with Snow at his side instead of his current fiancé. His mind flashes to an image of her carrying their child, her eyes filled joy and love as she looked at him. The image startles him so much that he's unable to say anything to Snow. _

_Snow enjoys the feels of the cool metal on her hand not because she's a thief with a penchant for pilfering jewelry but because it feels like it's meant to be on her hand. This ring, if he had given it to her, would bind her to him for life. The thought of being his 'prisoner' in that way makes her heart speed up. _

"_Yeah, not me at all," Snow says and takes off the ring so quickly that it seemed like it burned her. In a way, it did. The ring wasn't meant for her. He wasn't meant for her. "I'm sure your fiancé would love it." _

"_Yeah," he takes back the ring and puts it back in the bag. "If you need more, you can have the rest. The ring is all I require." _

"_Oh no, I'm good. We both got what we wanted," she pats the pouch of gold. _

"_Well, wherever you're going, be careful. If you need anything…"_

"_You'll find me."_

"_Always."_

"_I almost believe that." Snow, not wanting to prolong the inevitable, grabs her traveling sack on the ground. _

"_Good-bye, Snow White." _

"_Good-bye, Prince Charming." _

"_I told you, it was James." _

"_Nah, I still like Charming better." With that, Snow walks away and the prince watches. Seeing her leave, he becomes consumed with thoughts of her safety. He hopes that she has a warm place to sleep and that she has enough money to feed herself. More importantly, he hopes that the queens' associates do not find her. _

_Black smoke suddenly appears and swiftly engulfs Snow. She screams, "James!" _

_He runs towards the smoke screaming her name but doesn't make it in time. As quickly as it came, the smoke disappears taking Snow with it. _

John Doe wakes up from his dream in a cold sweat. This is the second night he's had this dream. The first time was the night before he visited Mary; it's what prompted to him to visit. The dream was so clear, almost like a memory. He had to see her.

Tonight is no different. The need to see her is strong. For some reason, he knows the heartbreak of losing her. But how can you lose something you never had?

Another thought that struck him as odd was why he was dreaming of fairytale characters. 'Me? Prince Charming? That's ridiculous. Whatever landed me in a coma must've really done a number on me.'

Getting up from the couch that has been his bed for the past week since he's woken up, he goes over to the bathroom and douses his face with cold water. It's been one day since he's dropped her home after finding her in the woods and he's been in a state of constant worry. He couldn't shake off the niggling feeling that something was wrong.

He realizes that she's a grown woman and has taken care of herself fairly well thus far. 'She obviously has been taking care of herself better than I have been taking care myself—at least she wasn't the one in a coma for a couple of years,' he thinks wryly.

His coma. 'What happened?' he questions again for the millionth time. 'How does someone just end up sleeping like the dead for years?'

Questions. He's been plagued with questions and uncertainty since he's woken up. When he looks at his 'wife,' he questions if she really is his wife. When he walks through the town, he questions how no one knows who he was before the coma. When he's called 'David Nolan,' he questions if that really is his name.

For him, there are two worlds he's dealing with: what he's being told and what feels right inside. His therapist, Dr. Archie Hopper, tells him that's to be expected. Dr. Hopper says that amnesiacs create a world for themselves when they're in a coma and it's difficult for them to reconcile reality with the world in their minds.

'Then what is real?'

All John knows is that he feels peace when he's around Mary. He knows that it's her voice that woke him up. He knows that there's a connection between the two of them that's unexplainable.

Walking out of the bathroom, the wall clock tells him that it's two in the morning. The inexplicable anxiety caused by thoughts of Mary in danger keep him from sleep. He needs to take a walk.

Putting on tennis shoes and a cotton pullover, he leaves the house.

* * *

><p>Mary and Emma are stargazing in the park at two in the morning. Well, they were gazing at stars but not necessarily talking about them. They placed a blanket on the ground and lied down on their backs. They brought a bottle of white wine and were passing it between each other. The girls were exchanging embarrassing moments from their life. Well, Emma was getting chatty and telling Mary about her not-so-stellar adolescent experiences.<p>

"After I left that party, I knew that I would never look at pickles the same way again!" Emma ends her story, laughing. Mary joins in and laughs so loud that she startles herself.

Mary sits up and takes a swig from the wine. She doesn't usually drink but Emma was very persuasive. "Come on, you said you weren't a nun," Emma had prodded earlier, "Prove it!" They bought a bottle and decided to have an impromptu picnic in the park.

A thought strikes Mary's mind and she asks softly, "Were you ever close to finding your parents?"

Emma snorts, "Nope. Then again, I haven't checked most of Asia and southern Europe yet. They could be international spies who couldn't be bogged down with a baby. I've heard stranger stories." Inwardly, she adds, 'Like how my son believes that you're my mother and my father is the town amnesiac and that the two of you are Snow White and Prince Charming.'

"I don't understand why they would've abandoned you. Perhaps they didn't have a choice?"

"Right, leaving a child on the side of the road was their only option," Emma replies sarcastically. Sitting up as well, Emma takes the bottle and drinks deeply. Their lighthearted conversation is now going towards emotional territory. Usually, Emma would shut down and try to end the conversation. Tonight, however, she's willing to open up to someone. Mary has the strange ability to make her feel calm and want to talk.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I'm not saying what they did was right and that they should be forgiven. I'm only saying, maybe there was a reason they had to give you up. Maybe, they thought it was for the best."

"I guess," Emma replies doubtfully. She's been dealing with thoughts of her parents since she can remember. Before, she used to believe that they'd find her and cover her with kisses, telling her how sorry they were for leaving her. Before, she thought that she'd find them and actually get some answers. Before, she thought she'd be able to have a family.

Now, she has no reason to hope for a reunion. "I've basically accepted the fact that they didn't want me to find them." Emma reaches into her jeans pocket and pulls out a cloth with her name on it. She hands it to Mary saying, "This is all they left me."

Mary takes it and instantly scrunches her eyebrows. There was something strangely familiar about the cloth, like she's seen in it in a dream. She closes her eyes as she traces the careful embroidery.

She's instantly seized with a vision:

_She's sitting in a wooden rocking chair on a balcony overlooking a lush green forest that ends abruptly at a cliff touching a dark blue ocean. The view is breathtaking. _

_Looking down at her hands, she sees the fabric that Emma has given her on an embroidery hoop. Except, instead of a couple of inches of cloth, it's a male's long-sleeved shirt. The project isn't finished yet with only two letters completed. _

"_Ha! I've caught you! That's what you've done with my favorite shirt, you thief," a familiar voice says jovially from behind her. She turns her head around and sees John standing behind her in nothing but pants and boots. "You know, you need only ask and I would've given it to you. There are few things in this world I would deny you. But I suppose old habits are difficult to change, my love?" _

_Mary reaches out to touch the side of his face and he reverently kisses the inside of her palm. His warm lips send a shock wave directly to her heart and speeds it up. Before she can say anything, the vision ends. _

"Are you OK?" Emma asks as she takes back the cloth and carefully folds it. "You seemed kinda gone there for a moment?"

Mary closes her eyes and shakes her head. The vision was so clear. Too clear. "I think I've had too much to drink."

"No such thing! But if you want to stop, you can." Emma lies down again with her arm behind her head. Staring at the stars, she feels her eyes getting heavy. "I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a little sleepy. Lemme just take a quick nap," she yawns.

Mary only half hears Emma because she's still thinking about what she's just seen. When she finally notices that Emma has nodded off, she smiles. She takes a wool afghan out of her large bag and covers Emma with it. She strokes Emma's hair and is suddenly astounded at how quickly her affection for the other woman has grown.

Mary pulls out another afghan, lies down, and covers herself. Staring at the stars, she ponders her vision. Was it an alcohol-induced hallucination? Was it a fantasy? Was it a…memory?

'I must be crazy. A memory?' she says to herself yet she cannot completely deny the possibility.

"Don't you have to teach a class in the morning?" John asks as he stands over her with a wry grin.

Sitting up quickly, she chuckles nervously and replies, "Unless they've changed the law in the last ten hours, school's out on weekends." Scooting closer to Emma, she makes room for John and pats the spot next to her.

"Really? I thought today was Wednesday." He toes off his shoes and sits next to her. Luckily, he wore thick socks or he would've been cold.

"Nope, it's Friday Well, technically Saturday."

"I think I'm still getting used to being back from the dead." Grabbing the bottle and sniffing its contents, he says, "Regardless, it seems sketchy that you're out so late like this."

"Well, it's been a sketchy week for everybody. Did you know that the hands on the clock in the middle of the town haven't moved for years? This week, they're telling time perfectly. Also, Emma and I have become the only people on the mayor's Most-Wanted list. And you, the man who's been in a coma since I started volunteering at the hospital, suddenly woke up."

Smiling crookedly at her, "That does sound pretty sketchy. I think you forgot to throw in 'Crazy school teacher gets lost in woods and sings to woodland animals to ask for help.'"

Mary covers her face in embarrassment, "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Nope."

"Thank you, by the way, for finding me. I don't know how I would have found my way out before morning. I probably would have pneumonia right now if it weren't for you." Mary reaches in to her bag and pulls out a plastic of fresh baked cinnamon cookies and hands it to him. "I was supposed to give you this in the morning but we, uh, got hungry and ate some."

Opening the bag and pulling out one, John takes a careful bite.

Without warning, he's seized with a vision:

"_You have to stop eating those cookies! I baked them for the dwarves and you'll spoil your dinner," she chastises. The woman talking to him looks like Mary but she's different. She's more similar to Snow White from his dreams. "I'm baking some for you right now but you have to promise to wait." _

_She's pregnant and has a wooden mixing bowl over her stomach. Her hair reaches to the middle of her back and she has golden ribbons woven through the braids on her head. _

_He suddenly hears himself speak, "My love, your cinnamon cookies are just as irresistible as you are. How can I possibly help myself?" He folds his arms petulantly and says, "And why do the dwarves get cookies first? Don't you love me more?" _

"_Ha! At least they've never set a trap for me in the woods, held me suspended in the air, and threatened my life!" _

_Rushing to her, he molds himself to her backside and kisses one side of her neck. He brings his mouth to her ear and whispers, "And I would do it all over again if I knew that you'd one day become my wife and mother of my child." _

_Turning her head to face him, she whispers back, "I love you more than the dwarves but I'm still giving them those cookies."_

_The vision ends as he releases her body and takes her face into both his hands for a searing kiss…_

"What just happened?" John shakes his head vigorously as the vision ends.

Mary gives John an incredulous look. "Um, I guess the cookies are just that good?"

"I've…I've eaten these before."

"Huh, I highly doubt that. We've just met and this is my own special recipe. I've only told one person this recipe and that's Emma. She just learned it tonight." Mary, now doubting herself a little, takes a cookie and nibbles on it. Feeling more confident, she says, "Yup, this is mine."

"I've eaten these before," he repeats. His mind is racing as he tries desperately to grasp at the memory. It was quickly slipping away like water through his fingers.

Feeling slightly offended, Mary replies, "Well, I'm sure similar recipes exist, but I highly doubt that they'd be the same." She takes a bite, frowns, and adds, "Maybe your wife made these for you."

"Yeah, right, she made these delicious cinnamon cookies even though she can barely boil water!" he exclaims in disbelief.

"I just don't know how you would've eaten these cookies. I don't usually give them out to people. I mean, I'm not hoarding them because I think that they're the best in the world or anything. The cookies kinda—" she rambles but he cuts her off.

"Don't you see, I just remembered something."

"You remembered eating the cookies? How is that possible?"

"The cookies triggered a memory… I think."

Perking up a little more, she says excitedly, "That's great! What'd you see? Parents? The accident?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. It doesn't seem real."

Mary deflates, "That's too bad. I really hope your memories come back soon. Must be frustrating. If those cookies somehow help, I'll happily make you more."

He smiles crookedly at her and her heart flutters. "You're probably gonna have to make a million of these."

"Gladly," she says softly. Not knowing what else to say, she lies down and looks at the stars again. She thinks about how for a moment, when she had her little vision, all the stars in the sky seemed to align.

John examines Mary and compares her to Snow White. Aside from the fact that Snow White is pregnant and has longer hair, she also seems more confident. Snow White has a rebellious jut in her chin that tells him she's not afraid to her speak her mind. She would sooner insult you with truth than compliment you with lies.

Mary, on the other hand, is resigned to her lot in life. Her voice carries uncertainty. She's not comfortable in her own skin.

They both, however, cause him to forget everyone and everything around him when they so much as smile at him. Laying down next Mary with an arm behind his head, he wonders what these visions mean.

"Mary?" He turns his head to the right.

"Hm?" She faces his direction. They're so close that their noses could touch.

Without thinking, he leans in for a kiss. Instinctively, as if this wasn't the first time he's kissed her, she closes her eyes.

Before their lips could touch, the park's sprinkler system goes off.

"Ah, crap!" Emma is awake and grumpily grabbing for their things. Mary and John are laughing, not because of the sprinkler system's uncanny timing, but to hide their awkwardness.

The three of them walk towards Emma's small yellow car and throw their wet things in the backseat. Emma is startled when she finally notices John. "What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep, took a walk, and saw you two at the park," he answers simply.

"Need a ride?"

Looking at Mary, he says, "Uh, I'll just walk. I need to get to the know the town again, ya know?"

Emma raises an eyebrow, "You want to get to know the town at nearly three in the morning?"

"Uh, yes."

Shrugging, Emma says, "If you're sure." She walks over to the driver side and gets in.

Mary and John stare into each other's eyes and silently communicate to each other that they must talk about the kiss they almost shared.


End file.
